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❝ 𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚜 𝙸𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢. ❞

─ 𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑘𝑒

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The Slytherin house mascot is a snake, but Nina has always thought she's more similar to a scorpion. Like the scorpion she's a solitary animal. Nina has a very small, select few friends, but that's fine. It's her choice to have it this way; most people are irksome beyond belief, she finds. Can anyone blame her if she only wants to talk to the good ones? She's been told, more than once by multiple people, that she's overly aggressive and hostile; but, honestly, is it her fault if she has to put a few dunderheads in their place every now and again? It's not like she seeks out imbeciles to ridicule, unlike a certain blonde twerp she could mention. However, if a moron does venture too close, if one should get so high and mighty that they're looking down on everyone else, she won't hesitate to bring them back down to reality.

Nina Snape does not bite like a snake, she stings like a scorpion.

It's for this reason that Nina finds herself in a train compartment alongside the new potions professor and her arch nemesis Ginny Weasley.

Her father had gone to Diagon Alley without her to get her things for school. Nina is not happy about that. "That's nice," she tells him the day he goes. "Leave your teenage daughter home alone with a perverted rat." When the rat tries to defend himself she shuts him down. "You stayed in a young boy's pants for twelve years while in hiding!" This shuts him up fast. He knows it's weird, even if he had been posing as a family pet at the time.

Also his kids have gone MIA (that's a long story Nina would rather not get into). He doesn't seem to care much. Well. At least she's not the only one with a horrible father.

Her father does give the rat a few warning threats before he goes, but he still goes. He can't even be bothered to buy her a new book for potions, instead giving her a battered old one from his school days. In fairness, Nina has never expressed much care for the subject while her father was the teacher. Perhaps, he figured this behavior would continue with the new teacher and couldn't be bothered to waste money on a brand new book she was just going to vandalize herself anyway. However, Nina had every intention of taking the class seriously this year. (She needs the good marks, on the off chance they still allow her to become an auror.)

"Who even calls you the Half-blood Prince anyway?" Nina wonders as she scans the inside of the cover. Her father, much to her disappointment, does not answer this query.

Now they're on platform nine-and-three quarters, preparing to board the Hogwarts Express. Nina thinks it's a dull form of transportation compared to driving, but perhaps this is just because she's gone through this same, dreadful process six times in the last six years. As if anything would ever be different. Well, this year might be. "If the rat goes into my room while we're gone, I'm stabbing him with a fork," Nina declares. She's reminded her father doesn't much care for the rat either when a brief look of amusement crosses his features. Comments like those won't aggravate him the way she wants.

Nina folds her arms and huffs. It's childish, yes, but she's grumpy. "Anyway, you can apparate away now. I've been through this enough times to manage hopping on the train without tripping over myself. I don't need your supervision." Then, just because the universe hates her, Nina trips on her way onto the train.

"You were saying?" Nina glares back at her father. He looks amused, which is infuriating. She knows it's because she's been acting like a brat -- this is karma coming for her. Still, he's been far worse than she's ever been. Maybe he deserves a bratty daughter.

"Oh, shut up." Those are the last words she says to her father before the start of term. Nina starts down the hall before he even moves to apparate (she's not sure why he doesn't take the train -- possibly so he doesn't have to deal with the student body more than he has to; but Nina is glad to have a few moments away from him, especially with everything in store for her this year). The compartments fill up fast, and she wants to find an empty one before she gets stuck with anyone she can't stand (a difficult feat as her list of annoying schmucks consists of over half the people on the train). She could always shove them out the way Malfoy does, but it feels like poor sportsmanship if they're there first.

Nina is fortunate enough to find a compartment that everyone appears to be avoiding with everything they have, as if this one has some sort of toxic infestation inside it. It's perfect. Nina slips inside, flopping down beside the sole occupant -- Barbara Johnson.

As the one and only transfer student from the American Wizarding school, Ilvermorny, the sixth year Hufflepuff interests Nina for a multitude of reasons. First, she continues to fly seven hours every year just to come to this bloody school when she's stated numerous times that she loathes the whole process and would rather remain at her old school; second, Barbara didn't get sorted the way the rest of them had. She got to choose her house without ever setting eyes on that stupid hat everyone else had to put on their heads. Third, in their fourth year, Barbara was one of the Triwizard Tournament champions. (She even got it changed up a bit, getting the other schools two extra champions each since Hogwarts had three and fair is fair.)

She's the one who got Merula Snyde to be nice. She is the one who managed to hook up Ron Weasley and Ed Lawson; and she somehow influenced Lawson, one of the most stubborn, pig headed Gryffindor there is, to make peace with his mortal enemy of Slytherin, Julian Carter. Also, Merula started dating Bernadette Cruise because of her, which is interesting since they spent the first three years of school trying to murder one another.

(Barbara also once attempted to get Nina's father to be kinder to the student body by locking him in a room with another teacher, Professor Grace, in the hopes they might fall in love. Nina isn't sure how this turned out since she doesn't ask her father questions unless it has to do with herself.)

Barbara is the co-founder of the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, founder of the coven known as the Diggory Association, the only one who's even made a dent in the feud that's been going on between the Hogwarts houses, especially between Gryffindor and Slytherin, for longer than any of the students have been alive. It was Barbara who started the revolution when Umbridge threw the Hagrids out last year (okay, the Weasley Twins eventually started one too, but Nina doesn't care about that); it was Barbara who saved the life of Sirius Black, subsequently clearing his name.

All this, and the various other feats the girl has accomplished, should have been enough for anyone to see how much she belonged to the Hufflepuff house; it should have been enough for the world to realize she was quite possibly the best of them all. And yet, all it takes for them to turn on her is one tiny detail, one bit of information about her heritage that had leaked out to the Daily Prophet over the summer. Barbara Johnson is the granddaughter of the man Nina is being forced to work for this year. The Dark Lord's Heiress, they call her.

How ironic is this.

Barbara glances up, half asleep. Her hair, normally blonde, has been dyed a dark shade of brown that really does nothing for her features. (Nina thinks she looks better with the brighter colors.) Barbara's blue eyes, which in any other instance would be dancing with a sort of contagious amusement, are lifeless and dull, as if Nina is staring into a void. Her shoulders are slumped, posture worse than normal. Sometimes, at the beginning of the year, she looks tired like this (because of the jet lag) but something about the way her gaze is downcast, picking at her fingers, the way her voice is small, too small to be her own, gives Nina the impression that it's more than just a bit of sleepiness due to time change. Barbara is nothing more than a shell, empty and hollow; if Nina hadn't known any better, she would have thought her friend had been kissed by a dementor. She supposes the howlers and hate letters she'd been told about can have the same effect.

But really, what could she expect? A bunch of adults sending angry messages, harassing her, a teenage girl on the daily just for being related to the Dark Lord. It was a wonder it took so long for Barbara to break down and write to Nina, venting about this issue. Nina wishes she had the ability to track down each and every one of those assholes, but she does not, as it stands, hold that kind of power. (For starters, they don't know any names since all the letters and howlers had been sent anonymously.) Besides, that is not the reason Barbara had confided in her instead of one of her other friends at either Ilvermorny or Hogwarts, whom she is, in all honesty, closer with. Nina will tell her how it is, she won't sugar coat things to spare her feelings or try to make her feel better with useless, generic advice. "Keep your head up," for instance, is the most annoying sentence Nina has ever heard in her life.

"You look like shit," Nina says. She tosses her trunk aside, taking up the tank -- the only bit of luggage she cares enough to be gentle with -- in which her pet scorpion Duke is resting on his favorite rock (at least she assumes it's his favorite as he's always perched there whenever she peers inside the tank).

"Jee, thanks, man, that makes me feel fantastic," Barbara rolls her eyes. Her words don't carry any weight to them, though, and her tone is lackluster. She sounds like a robot (another really cool muggle item Nina would some day like to acquire).

Nina shrugs, watching Duke move around in his tank. "Where're the other delinquents? I thought at least your coven would be on your side."

"They are," Barbara says. She doesn't meet Nina's eyes. "But I, um, disbanded the Diggory Association. It... it didn't feel justified anymore..."

Nina glances up, eyebrows raised. "Why? Because you're related to the one who killed Cedric Diggory?" Barbara doesn't respond, but that's an answer in of itself.

The Diggory Association was formed to commemorate Cedric Diggory, the boy who died in the Triwizard Tournament, the boy Barbara had a mild crush on, the boy who had been her very first friend at Hogwarts, the boy she had named her coven after as to remind everyone of his existence when they were all so keen to forget him. Despite her efforts, the world has been quick to write him off as unimportant, even after the Ministry of Magic was forced to confront their blunders and admit that the Dark Lord had indeed returned to power. Cedric Diggory was the first one killed upon His return. To forget his name, as so many already have, seems unjust. Disbanding the coven barring his name, the sole reminder he had even existed as anything other than the boy who died two years ago, is unjust. It's the opposite of what Hufflepuffs are supposed to stand for.

Nina can't help being disappointed in Barbara's decision.

"Did his parents bully you into dropping it?" It'd be understandable, his parents being enraged, perhaps feeling foolish allowing the granddaughter of their son's murderer lead the group with his name on it. Maybe, to them, it somehow insults his memory. Then again, they were the ones who gave Barbara permission to name it after their son in the first place, and they should have known how close the two had gotten.

Barbara shifts in her seat, but she doesn't say a word. So, that's a yes. She's picking at her fingernails with more hostile movements now. "Where's Fin?" Fin is their mutual friend, another Hufflepuff whom Nina had fallen in love with the second she realized they both fancied ripping their skirts and had the same infatuation for nose rings. She was also the granddaughter of their Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Rubeus Hagrid, which drove Nina's father batty. That's a plus as well.

"You're changing the subject," Nina noticed, "but fine. I can respect boundaries."

Barbara glances up at her, forcing a small smile that doesn't meet her eyes. It looks more of a grimace than anything else. "So... Fin?"

Nina frowns. "I thought you were just -- she didn't tell you?" The clueless expression on Barbara's face is enough of an answer. "She transferred to Beauxbatons this year. After last year... what Umbridge put her through... well, I guess she just felt safer switching, you know?"

Barbara nods, but Nina can see her last bit of enthusiasm deflate out of her right then and there. "Yeah. I hope she's happier there..."

"Mhm." She's not sure if it's because she feels it too, or if she's more intuitive than she's initially thought, but Nina thinks Barbara's disappointment is radiating throughout the room. There's a heaviness in the room, the sort that can't be defined, that grabs hold and tugs you down until you're sure you're drowning in shit. Barbara, perhaps, feels Fin transferred to get away from her, but Nina knows she'd be the first one to knock someone on their ass if they dared insult the other girl in her presence. That's one of the lovable things about Fin Hagrid. Loyalty.

Though, even without all that hassle the year won't be the same without Fin. No one quite gets Nina's humor the way she does, and without her she doesn't have anyone to exchange muggle rock music CDs with. Who else is going to share her loathing of Draco Malfoy? Who's going to say, 'I'll stomp on ya' whenever Nina says, 'I will stab you with a fork!' And who the hell is she supposed to talk about Cask of Amontillado with? Well, okay, she can probably find someone else to do all that with, but it won't be the same. They wouldn't be Fin.

Nina won't admit it out loud, but she's come to view the freakishly tall girl as her best friend. (Inside school at least, outside of Hogwarts her best friend is Oscar.) Without her, there's a missing piece of the puzzle that is Nina's life.

Oh well. Perhaps, it's better this way. What, with everything yet to come... She'll be fine in Beauxbatons. She'll be safer there. Make new friends, forget all about them here at Hogwarts and live a happy, non-traumatic life. Fin, Nina thinks, will be much better off without her leading her in the wrong direction (her grandfather will agree with that much, at least).

"Oh! Look at this!" Nina jumps from her seat, unable to stop the forming grin. It's weird and, frankly, hurts her face, but she can't help it. She's ecstatic. Nina shows Barbara the little card with her name on it, the one with the weird, unmoving picture. Her driver's license.

Barbara gives another forced smile that looks more like a grimace. "That's cool." It's not exactly the reaction Nina is hoping for -- she'd been expecting more jumping up and down, maybe, and Barbara telling her what an awesome job she's done getting the license even if it is just a piece of plastic -- but she supposes she ought to give the girl some credit for trying. With everything being thrown her way it must be hard to show much enthusiasm.

Nina holds the license out in front of her, examining it closely for the first time since the night she got it. She runs her fingers over the still picture one more time before stuffing it back in her pocket. It's so weird.

The lunch trolley rolls by their compartment in a hurry, the witch pushing it looking quite determined not to make eye contact with the two girls sitting inside -- or maybe it's just Barbara's gaze she's avoiding. Either way, Nina excuses herself to hunt her down; along the way trouble ensues.

She rounds the corner, only to see the second most annoying person in all of Hogwarts: Ginny Weasley. She's with a group of her fifth year friends, and there's a Hufflepuff boy, Smith (Nina doesn't remember his first name, Cody or Zack, she thinks?) asking her questions. "What really happened at the Ministry?" "Why did you go there in the first place?" "Did you really fight Death Eaters?" "Is Harry Potter really the Chosen One?" They're a bit invasive, tacky, rude, but Nina isn't sure asking questions, however annoying they are, is a good enough reason to hex someone. This, naturally, is the way Ginny handles the issue.

Bloody Gryffindors.

Smith is flying across the aisle in the blink of an eye, bogeys pouring from his nostrils, transforming into bats and flying away as he hits the floor. Ginny's friends snigger and congratulate her on a job well done; she actually looks proud of herself when Smith bolts away in fear, his bogeys still turning into bats as he goes. Nina presses herself to the wall when he passes her, lest he accidentally touch her with one of those nasty things pouring from his nose.

Nina's gaze turns to where Ginny is turning to leave with her friends, nose upturned. "You know, you could have just told him to piss off, you didn't have to hex him."

"He was annoying me," Ginny says, as if that justifies anything. Nina rolls her eyes, prompting Ginny to scowl. "And I don't remember asking for your opinion, Nina." Her friends are behind her, bouncing on their feet, just waiting for her to hex the awful, vile Slytherin girl next.

"What gave you the impression I cared to obtain your permission?" Nina shoots back. She moves forward, paying no mind to the fact that it's in the same sweeping manner her father uses when he's trying to look intimidating. Ginny doesn't move an inch, which is disappointing but not unsurprising; her friends, however, make way, just in case things get ugly. They often did between the two of them. "You're acting like a brat, Ginny, and just as much a bully as those you pretend to hate."

Ginny is seething. Nina figures she can't handle being called out this, seeing as how no one else has ever bothered, rewarding the behavior instead of correcting it. 'Oh, look how cool and badass she is!' 'wow she's so strong!' It's the Gryffindor mentality. As long as you're wearing red and gold at Hogwarts, it doesn't matter if you're the snootiest, brattiest, child there ever was, you can do no wrong. Nina isn't having any of that.

Wands are out in seconds; Nina lets Ginny fire first. The red head's hex bounces right off Nina as she swoops her wand to the side with a lazy disposition. Nina grins when Ginny scowls in anger because how dare Nina, an older, far more talented witch than she, block her silly, childish hex. She doesn't get to admire the agitated look on the Gryffindor's face for very long, however, because just then a man -- Nina can only assume that he's the new potions professor as she has never seen him before -- makes his way towards them, clapping like they've just put on the best play he's ever seen.

"Marvelous, marvelous, performances, my dears," he says as he reaches them. He turns to Ginny first, "That bat bogey hex was performed perfectly!" And then to Nina, "And the way you blocked it so effortlessly, splendid, splendid." In spite of herself, Nina exchanges a look with Ginny. Hm. So, he sees two girls fighting in the hallway, and his response is not to reprimand them, but instead to congratulate them? What a strange little man. "Tell me, what do they call you?"

"Problematic Menace," Nina says. "But sometimes they call me Hazardous Monstrosity."

The new professor looks taken back by this, and for a moment he's fumbling around for the correct words to respond with. Ginny beats him to it, rolling her eyes, "He means our names, idiot."

"I know what he means."

"I'm Ginny Weasley," Ginny tells the professor, now ignoring Nina completely. She looks nervous, like maybe she thinks she'll actually get a detention for this one, but Nina knows better. It's the Gryffindor mentality. Even the new teachers have it.

"Nina," she says, shrugging.

The teacher nods excitedly, introduces himself as Professor Slughorn, and insists they both come to a lunch party he's having in compartment C. Nina's curious so she agrees, Ginny follows just to stay on the teacher's good side. It's not long before the compartment fills up, and Nina is able to fit the pieces together once Harry Potter walks into the room. It's a fame game. He calls it the Slug Club. They're all there either because they've done something Slughorn deems impressive or because they know someone who's done something impressive. Except Potter. He's there because he's Harry Potter, aka The Boy Who Lived, aka The Chosen One, aka a massive pain in the arse.

Blaise Zabini, a boy from her house, is there because of his mother, who's been married seven different times, all of her husbands dying of mysterious circumstances. (Nina has a theory on what happens to them, but she's never told Blaise about it). He's the only other Slytherin in the room. Marcus Belby is the one and only Ravenclaw. The rest are Gryffindors. Go figure.

"Why no Hufflepuffs?" Nina asks.

Slughorn stops mid gush over Harry Potter and whatever happened at the Ministry. (Potter actually looks thankful for this.) The professor glances around the room, as if there might be someone in yellow hiding out of sight. "Well, surely... one of you must be..." At the shakes of their heads, he adds, "Oh, well, this is just one small group, I'm sure as the Slug Club continues throughout the year, we'll be able to pick up some Hufflepuffs. You mustn't think ill of me for not knowing which students are from which houses, it has been a while after all..."

Fair enough. For now.

Nina doesn't pay much attention to the 'Slug Club' after that. It's a bit boring in her opinion, just Slughorn droning on and on about the famous people he used to teach as if that somehow makes him important by association. If she wanted a lecture she could actually listen to her father for once.

When it's over she follows Blaise back to his compartment (she'd gone back to Barbara first with the food she'd promised her, but Barbara had insisted on being alone, leaving Nina no choice but to sit elsewhere). Blaise's compartment is filled with some of their fellow sixth year Slytherins, and, much to Nina's dismay, Draco Malfoy is among them.

Nina takes a spot between Julian Carter and Merula Snyde, deciding to avoid Pansy Parkinson like the plague considering she had a ferret's head in her lap. (She's actually petting him too. Gross.) There's not much going on in their compartment; mostly everyone looks bored out of their minds. Crabbe's reading a comic. That's about all the action there is in here until Blaise starts struggling with the door. He tries slamming it shut multiple times, but it seems to get stuck on something. "What's wrong with this thing?" That's when the door is pushed back open by an invisible force and Blaise tumbles backwards... right onto Goyal's lap.

Nina burst into a fit of cackles, the others sniggering beside, except for Julian who was born without a sense of humor. Neither Blaise nor Goyal seem to find it very funny either, glaring at each other as the latter tosses the former to the floor and finally slams the door shut.

Things calm down after a moment, the two boys still glowering at one another every now and again. They want to know what Slughorn wanted; Nina and Blaise tell them with unenthused voices. Malfoy is affronted when he hears Neville Longbottom got an invitation when he did not, which Nina gathers when he starts talking out of his arse. "Well, I pity Slughorn's taste. Maybe he's going a bit senile." Yes, because obviously someone must be crazy to reject a Malfoy. "Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his. Slughorn probably hasn't heard I'm on the train or --"

"Believe it or not, your family isn't at the center of the universe, Malfoy," Nina interrupts. She thinks someone laughs, but she isn't sure who because she doesn't see anyone move.

"I wouldn't bank on an invitation, anyway," Blaise cuts in before Malfoy can retort. "He asked me about Nott's father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he'd been caught at the Ministry he didn't look happy, and Nott didn't get an invitation, did he? I don't think Slughorn is interested in Death Eaters."

"My dad was a Death Eater." Nina is careful to use past tense. No one's supposed to know he's on His side again. "I got invited." The truth is she couldn't care less about being part of this Slug Club, but she liked the way it made Malfoy seeth.

Blaise shrugs. "Well, you're different aren't you? Your dad's got Dumbledore vouching for him, hasn't he?"

Nina gives her own shrug in return. It's true, of course. Everyone's heard the stories by this point, how her father got off scot free in the first war because Albus Dumbledore trusted him oh so very much; how he turned spy for him; how when He returned Nina's father stayed at Hogwarts instead of returning to Him (only to do just that two hours later, offering up his own daughter as proof of his loyalty or whatever). She can't help wondering why Dumbledore is so keen on thinking her father is actually good. He can't possibly be that good at acting, can he? Can he fool someone regarded as the most powerful wizard of all time? Then again, Dumbledore can be a bit oblivious at times...

"I suppose there's that," Nina says. "There's also the fact that I didn't share my last name with him. Unlike some people --" she gives a pointed look at Malfoy. "-- I don't deem it necessary to boast about my heritage all hours of the day."

Malfoy yawns, speaking as if Nina isn't even there. He seems to be under the impression this will upset her, but on the contrary she's glad he's not acknowledging her presence; she doesn't have to pretend to care what he's saying this way. "Who cares what he's interested in? What is he when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher. I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year, what's it matter to me if some fat old has-been likes me or not?"

"What do you mean you might not be at Hogwarts next year?" Pansy frowns, removing her hand from Draco's hair. She looks like her world's shattering at the thought, but Nina can't help the small twinge of amusement.

"Are you transferring to Pigfarts?" she asks.

Everyone stares at her like she's gone mad. Julian squints at her in a suspicious manner. "That's not a real place."

"Sure it is," Nina says. "You've just never heard of it because it's on Mars."

Merula grins a little, but everyone else has already shaken their heads and gone back to what they were doing before, save for Malfoy who doesn't seem to appreciate the hostile takeover of his spotlight. "Who's the Headmaster then?"

"His name is Rumbleroar. He's a lion, who can talk."

Malfoy is glaring at her now. "Are you finished?"

"Not in the slightest." Merula is the only one who looks amused by Nina's antics. "Rumbleroar also has these little orphan cubs he looks after, and he can perform Martian marriage ceremonies in addition to being the headmaster of Pigfarts. Oh, and he lets the good boys and girls ride on his back as reward. I know of two professors, McGonagills and Slitherus Snake."

"Hold on. McGonagills? Slitherus Snake?" Blaise starts, frowning at her. "Rumbleroar? Those name's sound suspiciously like --"

"They have docking vadars protecting the school from the atmosphere, since it's not exactly suitable for people" Nina cuts him off, "but in the event that one of them is opened students and facility must wear spacesuits at all times or else they'll all die. They have four houses too: Bumfuzzle for the good people, Scuttlebutt for the bad, Codswallop for those who are good at finding things, and Poppycock for whoever else."

"You're making that up," Malfoy accuses.

"Do you have proof of that?" Nina asks.

He rolls his eyes, going back to staring up at the ceiling as Pansy keeps stroking his hair. "If you like your little fantasy school so much, Nina, why don't you just go there and stop bothering the rest of us."

Nina throws her hands out for dramatics. "I can't go to Pigfarts. Weren't you listening? It's on Mars! I need a rocket ship. Do you have a rocket ship, Malfoy?" Now, everyone looks confused, even Merula. Of course, that is to be expected when one references a muggle invention in a compartment full of pureblooded children.

"Did you take something from the Weasley Twins before we left Kings Cross?" Julian asks Nina. It's the politest way she's ever heard anyone call her a nutter before.

"They don't go to school here anymore," Merula reminds him. "Remember? They flew out at the end of last year and started up that joke shop?"

"Yeah, but still."

"Anyway," Malfoy says, with an air of undeserved importance. "I was going to say, before Nina interrupted me with that nonsense --"

"It was meant to shut you up!" Nina huffs.

Unfortunately, he keeps going, and she lets out a loud groan in the hopes of drowning out the sound of his wretched voice. "-- I might have moved on to bigger and better things by next year."

Pansy's eyes widen. "Do you mean -- Him?" Malfoy shrugs in response.

Nina can't stop the short, shrill laugh that escapes her lips here. It's clear, the indirect hint he's alluding to, even with the lack of information. A ploy, Nina thinks, to get everyone to admire him in the wake of both Nina and Slughorn annoying him. 'Oh, wow he's going to work for You-Know-Who and preserve our pureblood heritage, ooh!' Personally, Nina doesn't see the glory in any of it, especially since she knows for fact that he didn't sign up for any of this either; he's just talking out of his ass as always.

"Mother wants me to finish my education, but personally, I don't see it as that important these days." Hmph, yeah right. "I mean, think about it... When the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone's got? Of course He isn't. It'll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown." As if he cares about showing Him any amount of devotion. Nina isn't sure if he's trying to convince himself or if he's just showboating. Perhaps a bit of both?

Blaise scoffs. His tone is scathing as he speaks, as if he's not quite sure he believes anything Malfoy is saying. "And you think you'll be able to do something for Him?" Nina's hands are sweating. He doesn't know, none of them do, that Malfoy has already been asked -- she's already been asked -- to do something for Him. Not even asked really, more of a 'do this or else' sort of thing, but still. They've already agreed to the terms. As if there were a choice. Her arm prickles with an itch, and she only just manages to stop herself from scratching it. What the hell is Malfoy thinking, bringing up the Dark Lord? Did he want to blow their cover and ruin her chances at becoming an auror?

"I just said haven't I? Maybe He doesn't care if I'm qualified. Maybe the job He wants me to do isn't something that you need to be qualified for." A massive rationalization. He knows this isn't right, he's only been asked to do the job because his father was caught at the Ministry last year. The Dark Lord doesn't care about him, He doesn't care if he lives or dies, doesn't care about his devotion; in fact, Nina is sure He's banking on the twerp's failure so He can wipe the Malfoys off the map. Something she'd be glad for under different circumstances.

Nina isn't sure why she's been forced into this. To keep her own father in line perhaps? Or maybe He thinks she'll be just as decent a spy as her father is. Either way, she's stuck babysitting the blonde twat, and if he fails, she fails by extension. Her arm itches more fiercely now, and Nina fights the urge to vomit. Judging from the way Malfoy is already hell bent on destroying his own cover, it's only a matter of time before someone catches on and tells the headmaster what he's up to. And then... well, Nina doesn't want to think about what happens if they're caught.

She doesn't realize how quiet the compartment has gotten until Merula speaks up, "Well, on that terrible disappointment, I can see Hogwarts. We'd better get our robes on."

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𝑆𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑆𝑢𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑙

෴✵෴

𝐼 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑡
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝐼 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑦
𝑇𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑚, 𝑚𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑚
𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑖𝑠𝑒
𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒, 𝐼'𝑑 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒

𝐼'𝑑 𝑟𝑢𝑛 𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑠 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠

𝐼 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑒
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑒
𝑁𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑠
𝐴𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦'𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒
𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑜 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑝

𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑎 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘

𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑙.

(Props to sparkle123tt for helping me with the poem! ) 𝑙.